


Tonight's the Night

by holyfudgemonkeys (erraticallyinspired)



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Breeding, Breeding Kink, Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, Implied Mpreg, Impregnation, Impregnation Kink, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Sloppy Seconds, Threesome - M/M/M, consensual voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:06:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25927111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erraticallyinspired/pseuds/holyfudgemonkeys
Summary: The sight that greets Gil in the living room is a familiar one, but that doesn’t stop a satisfied smile from spreading across his face, his toes curling against the hardwood.(AKA, Gil and JT have been trying to knock Malcolm up for a while. This is a glimpse of their efforts.)
Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Malcolm Bright, Gil Arroyo/Malcolm Bright/JT Tarmel, Malcolm Bright/JT Tarmel
Comments: 17
Kudos: 97





	Tonight's the Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AShortWalkToDelinquency](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AShortWalkToDelinquency/gifts).



> I could NOT get this prompt out of my head. Your swap prompts were too damn good <3<3<3

Gil parks in the private parking lot. His surroundings now are a far cry from the tiny apartment he shared with Jackie so many years back, and he still isn’t quite used to the stark decor of the apartment building’s lobby. He twirls his keys as he waits for the elevator, nods at the guard at the desk. It doesn’t take more than a minute for the doors to slide open without a sound.

But today has been a long one. 

He checks his phone on the ride up. No messages. He stuffs it into his pocket before fitting his key into the lock and opening his apartment door. 

The thud of it closing is nearly eclipsed by the muffled moan from the living room. 

Although his cock thickens at the sound, a warm jolt of arousal racing through him, Gil takes his time in the entryway. His shoes line up on the rack in the closet next to countless other pairs. His keys jangle against the ceramic bowl on the kitchen counter, which already holds two separate sets of keys. He even removes his jacket and slings it over the back of one of the chairs at the island. 

A smack. A curse. 

The sight that greets Gil in the living room is a familiar one, but that doesn’t stop a satisfied smile from spreading across his face, his toes curling against the hardwood. 

Both of his partners are on the couch. Malcolm’s hair has given up the fight, and strands of it bob in front of his face as he lifts himself out of the cradle of JT’s lap and fucks himself back down on a thick cock. Although fairly smooth, his bare skin holds a few scars from cases and childhood mishaps. The sock garters he still wears speaks to the spontaneity of this fuck. The rest of his clothes are in a heap on the floor. His hands clutch at JT’s shoulders through his partner’s shirt, knuckles white with desperation. Gil’s eyes trace the length of his neck. There are several hickeys both new and old there.

He knows _exactly_ which ones are his. 

“Hey baby,” JT murmurs, staying otherwise still. He’s relaxed. His arms are slung over the back of the couch, his feet planted on the ground. “Guess who’s finally home?”

Malcolm groans and turns his head to see Gil, who only leans against the wall in response, content to watch the show. And with the blotchy flush on his face, lips swollen from heated kisses, eyes slightly dazed with pleasure from the cock in his ass — Malcolm does make a pretty picture. “Daddy,” he says knowingly. A teasing smirk tugs at his lips.

“Glad to see you listened, kid. You know I don’t like making you wait for me.” Despite how strained his pants are, Gil doesn’t make a move to pull himself out. He loves watching these two together, and they’ve gotten him to come this way plenty of times, but he doesn’t want to ruin his new plans tonight. “Why don’t you finish showing JT how much you want his baby?”

Malcolm’s eyes slam shut. He takes a stuttered breath, however, and shakes it off before doubling down, fucking himself harder. Faster. His mouth drops open. His dick twitches and smears precome against his stomach.

Underneath him, JT’s pupils are blown wide. His hands, once relaxed, grip at the back of the couch as he fights not to help his partner along. This is not an unfamiliar sight. He loves to watch Malcolm eagerly take his cock, and all three of them know it. Still, he gives in when the ride begins to get jerky. His grip on Malcolm’s hips is sure to leave bruises, especially with how he slams him down into each thrust. 

It doesn’t take long for Malcolm to slump over him with a gasp. He covers their stomachs with his spend and leans into his partner for the rest of the ride. His fingers grasp at his shirt clumsily. 

Gil can tell the very moment JT tips over and fills their boy. That’s when he pushes off the wall, finally moving closer, though he doesn’t approach the couch but rather the coffee table, where Malcolm’s favorite plug sits, clean and ready. He glances at JT. “Ready?”

“Yes, sir,” JT says and helps their third raise up until his spent cock slips from his lube-slick hole. 

Using a thumb to push a bead of come back into a shaky Malcolm, Gil grabs the plug. It fits snugly despite the fucking.

 _That’s_ why it’s Malcolm’s favorite, after all. He gets to his feet, looking for all the world like a colt finding his footing for the first time, and drags Gil into a sloppy kiss. When he gets fucked out like this, he loses his finesse. 

Gil can’t say he minds. He gives his boy a good, light smack to the ass and revels in the moan it nets him. “Go clean up. I’ll order us dinner.” 

“Indian?” JT stands up, not bothering to tuck himself in. 

It’s not a bad idea. Although they have to order a milder curry for Malcolm, they all do enjoy Indian. Gil nods. “I’ll order the usual.”

JT and Malcolm stroll out of the bedroom about ten minutes later, three since he finished calling the order in. Both have changed into more comfortable clothing, and Malcolm’s lost the sock garters in favor of walking around barefoot. 

Gil knows he’s still plugged. If Malcolm had a choice, he’d always have a plug nestled in his ass, keeping a part of them inside of him. Nowadays, he’s especially keen on it. Gil hopes that it helps, that the test will come up positive soon enough. He doesn’t particularly care whether the kid is his or JT’s.

It’ll still be _Malcolm’s_. And both of them love Malcolm.

Said man looks at him with a knowing eye. He pecks JT on the cheek before moving to Gil, kissing him with a little more control this time. “I’m sorry about this afternoon.”

Gil snorts. “No, you’re not,” he says fondly. Malcolm wouldn’t be Malcolm if he didn’t run headfirst into danger. He just hopes they can curb that desire for a while once their efforts finally take root. 

Ducking his head, Malcolm smiles sheepishly. “I’m sorry I gave you more paperwork?” he tries instead.

“That’s more like it, bro,” JT says, snickering as he pulls out plates and silverware. 

Malcolm doesn’t even dispute it anymore. He just rolls his eyes for Gil to see before padding over to refresh Sunshine’s water. 

Dinner is comfortable like it’s always been since they really hit their stride with each other. Being two cops and a profiler, they talk about cases. News, sometimes. How the Whitly women are doing, or whether or not Dani’s new boyfriend will last past the fourth date or be intimidated by her take-no-bullshit personality by the end of the third.

But that doesn’t last too long. Predictably, Malcolm barely eats much. It’s more food than he would have eaten before moving in with the two of them, and yet he ends up pushing the plastic tub away long before either Gil or JT are satisfied. He picks at a piece of naan for a minute or two to give his hands something to do.

Then Gil feels it — a light brush against his foot. His legs are stretched out underneath the table approaching Malcolm’s space, but this is deliberate. Ripping a piece off the naan, he scoops up a bite of saucy chicken and gives Malcolm an amused look. 

JT hides a smile behind a bite of jalfrezi. 

Gil shakes his head and rips off another piece. When the second brush lasts longer than the first, he raises a brow. “You want something, kid?”

“You,” Malcolm says honestly. 

That’s all it takes, really. That’s all it’s ever taken. Gil takes one last bite before pushing the remains of his food away. His cock, softened sometime between the end of their show and the delivery man knocking on the door, hardens again. He’s always liked watching JT take Malcolm apart, yes.

What he _loves_ is getting his hands on Malcolm afterwards, when he’s dripping with JT’s come, loosened from their third’s cock and begging for more. The plug will have ensured he’s still open. Still wet. 

Malcolm starts for the bedroom.

“Nope,” Gil says, standing but not following. “C’mere, Bright.”

Unlike at work, Malcolm listens to him here. “Yes, Daddy?”

Gil unzips his fly and tugs himself free. “Bend over the island for me.”

That draws a smirk out of him. Malcolm all too eagerly abides, bending over and looking back at Gil, then over to JT, who takes an idle bite of his dinner. 

God, Gil’s been waiting for hours to sink into him, to relieve the stress of the day and make sure that Malcolm knows he loves him no matter how much of that stress Malcolm himself caused. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of Malcolm’s sweats and pulls it down to his thighs. 

He’s not wearing underwear. The gray base of the plug is settled between his cheeks.

Gil sucks in a breath. When he glances over at JT, he sees their third wink. He huffs a laugh. They know him too well. He rubs a hand over the swell of Malcolm’s ass, not touching the silicone. 

Malcolm shifts impatiently.

And Gil lays another light smack on him, this time right over the base of the plug. 

He gasps. The gray silicone dips slightly as he clenches around it. “Fuck, Gil.”

Gil grasps the base and pulls it out just enough for the thickest part to slip out, Malcolm’s rim bulging right before it pops. Then he eases it back in.

“ _Gil._ ”

“You know what to call me.” Instead of elaborating on a point he knows needs no elaboration, Gil lets go of the plug and uses both hands to spread Malcolm’s cheeks. He can’t wait to watch his cock fuck into him, sliding in the mess JT left behind. 

“Daddy,” Malcolm groans, “fuck me. _Please_.”

When Gil pulls the plug out this time, he removes it entirely. He can see streaks of JT’s come against the gray and needs to wrap his hand around the base of his cock until the heat returns to a simmer. “I think I might plug you back up after this,” he mutters. “Keep you stuffed until it takes.”

Malcolm pushes his ass out farther. “Fuck, Gil, _breed_ me.”

It’s not like he can say no to that. Gil angles himself where Malcolm’s still wet, traces of lube and come around his rim, and holds firm until the head of his cock disappears. His hands find purchase on thin hips. He doesn’t hold back. He knows both of them are desperate. In fact, he’s sure the scene he walked in on was a result of how desperate Malcolm and JT were when they got home, and it’s likely the three of them would have ended up tangled in bed had he not sent them ahead of him while he finished up the paperwork. He works his hips hard enough to send Malcolm a few inches across the island with every thrust, dragging him back to repeat it all over again.

Each one drags an _uh_ out of his partner. His fingers scrabble across the smooth surface for purchase he won’t find. 

“That’s it, baby,” JT says, heated eyes glued to Malcolm. He’s still eating, albeit halfheartedly. The only other indication he’s turned on is in the gruffness of his voice. “You take your daddy like a champ. I can’t wait to see you full of his kid.”

“Could be yours,” Gil grunts. Sweat beads up on his temple. The slick that froths up around the base of his cock is tinged white. 

Malcolm turns his flushed face to look him in the eye as best he can. “Or both,” he says cheekily. 

_Fuck_. The image is too much. Later tonight, Gil can give Malcolm the drawn out fuck he deserves. Right now, he reaches around to fist his cock and works it in time with his thrusts. It twitches in his hand. Hot come spills over his fingers, splatters against the bottom of the island.

“ _Gil._ ” Malcolm drops his head down to the counter. Most of his weight is supported by the surface now. “Shit.”

It’s difficult to stand through what feels like a truck hitting him, but Gil manages it, breathing heavily. “You’re gonna be the death of me, kid,” he says weakly. 

“He’s too much for one man to handle,” JT agrees, a smirk on his face. His voice is still rough. He pushes his dinner to the side. “Mind if I take over, Boss?”

Gil pulls out and drops into his chair. “Be my guest.” If Malcolm isn’t already pregnant, he suspects he certainly will be after tonight. 


End file.
